


Tricks

by 13atoms (2Atoms)



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Comfort, F/M, First Time, Not-Smut but also nsfw, The Master being a sweetheart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:00:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27643115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Atoms/pseuds/13atoms
Summary: Request: Can I request DH Master where the reader is a virign and doesn't tell the master right away and then the master finds out and is scared he pushed the reader too far.
Relationships: The Master (Dhawan)/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	Tricks

Your hands shook as you let The Master take your face in one hand, himself in the other. You felt awkward, unsure how to position yourself as he prepared to thrust into you.

The only respite from your fear was meeting his eyes above you, gazing at you with an adoration you couldn’t have imagined from a man infamous for evil and burning down planets. As he caught you staring, a self-satisfied smile stretched lazily across his face.

“And I thought I hated humans,” he cooed, so close to you that you could see every blink of his impossibly long eyelashes.

You couldn’t help smiling, nerves aside, your kiss-swollen lips feeling a little numb from his sudden love of making out with you.

It had never gone this far, though. You naked and him with his trousers around his knees, his jacket and waistcoat thrown on top of the stack of your clothes.

Your bed was soft beneath your combined weight, making it a little tricky to balance, and you laughed as The Master quickly used a hand to steady himself above you before going in for another luxurious kiss.

“Okay?” he murmured against your lips, before the pair of you pulled apart fully.

You nodded.

You raised one hand to his face, wanting to cup his jaw and stroke your fingers against his beard, trying to calm yourself. As your hand left the bed you could see the tremble in your own fingertips, and quickly chanced your mind, quickly dropping your arm back to rest tightly beside your hip.

The Master was old. Ancient. You were no match for his experience, the variety of gorgeous species, prettier humans, more exciting venues and more satisfying matches, and you fought down a full body shudder at the thought of him being so disappointed with you.

So you stayed still, tried to enjoy this one time he’d actually want to sleep with you, and hoped you wouldn’t be a disappointment.

Would it hurt? Would this be anything like normal human sex? You had no comparison point.

He was kissing your neck, murmuring sweet nothings against your skin, when his fingers started to tease you. Prepare you.

Embarrassing noises threatened to spill from your lips, and you tensed up to avoid moaning as he expertly let his fingertips tease you.

“Sure?”

One clear word, through all of his nonsense praise. You couldn’t look at him.

“Sure.” You breathed.

He gently guided one of your thighs further from the other, manoeuvring himself until you felt the alien sensation of his fingers being replaced by his cock pressing into you. His hand settled at your clit, rubbing teasingly soft against the nerves there, before his hips thrust slowly forward.

You grit your teeth, and screwed your eyes shut.

“Good?”

“Fine.”

You heard him laugh shallowly above you, felt it too, how he moved ever so slightly.

“ _Fine?_ ”

You couldn’t bear to look at him as he echoed your words, ashamed you might have done something wrong, embarrassed under his experienced judgement.

“Yeah,” you ground out, still trying to adjust to the feeling of him inside you.

The strangeness outweighed the pleasure, and you couldn’t help the thought: _what if this is it? Sex is just… bad_. _Overrated._

The Master had been so keen. Perhaps it was better for his species.

“I’d hoped for better than fine, love. _Mindblowing, wonderful_ , _the best you’ve ever had._ All words that spring to mind.”

“Sorry.”

Suddenly his hand was on your face, stroking your cheek, and you smelled the distinct musk of your own arousal on his fingers as he comforted you.

“Open your eyes,” he breathed, a tint of threat in his voice.

Enough to make you shudder. Remember who, exactly, the man above you was. What he signified, to swathes of the universe. It took all of your mental strength to open your eyes, fearing seeing nothing but disappointment on his face.

His deep brown eyes met yours, wide and filled with nothing but concern. A burst of shame filled your whole body, and you fought the instinct to cover yourself with your arms, to close your eyes and hide your face.

The Master opened and closed his mouth to speak a few times before he actually did, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead in places, a slight aroused heave in his chest. He was still hard inside you, and you wanted to kick yourself for not just letting him take what he wanted.

“You’re… tense,” he observed, letting his eyes rake over your body.

“Nervous,” you admitted. A beat of silence passed. “Is that bad?”

“No.”

His voice seemed careful, and you couldn’t help but sigh in disappointment as he pulled himself from you. Sudden panic passed across his face as he mistook the noise for relief, and he leant away from you, sitting up in horror.

“Why,” he began, “are you nervous?”

His tone was so soft, his words so considered, you recognised it as _dangerous_.

You closed your legs, folding them towards yourself without conscious thought, regarding The Master.

“I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“And why… why would you think you’ll disappoint me?”

A million fake excuses were ready to roll off your tongue, but the foundation of your relationship with The Master was honesty. It had to be, with a man like him. He lied like he breathed, but never to you.

It was the firmest rule between the pair of you: _no lies_.

Non-negotiable.

And it had to go both ways.

“I’ve never done this before.”

His jaw dropped, in a way that looked strange on his face. He never looked openly shocked, like he never admitted wrongdoing. Not unless he was around you.

“You’ve never had… sex?”

“Don’t rub it in,” you mumbled, feeling thoroughly embarrassed.

He had one knee on the bed, the other foot planted on the floor, looking down at you in a way which made you feel as much younger than him as you truly were. As _inferior_.

“No, no I just… why didn’t you _tell me?_ ”

“Because its embarrassing! You’re so much… more than me. Older. Better travelled.”

“And I’ve had more sex,” he said flatly, filling in the blanks.

“Duh.”

“That’s a problem, doll! You just had to tell me!”

“But I don’t want to be _bad_. I don’t know the advanced stuff, the… tricks. And stuff.”

“Tricks?”

The Master looked ready to laugh, but one look at your face stopped him from laughing out loud. Taking the piss, like you knew he longed to. His face fell as you pulled a pillow to your chest, clutching it, refusing to look at him.

“I really don’t care about that. Obviously! I care about you.”

You huffed petulantly, too mortified to listen to his bullshit. The Master quickly took offense.

“Sex isn’t about _bodies_. Or _experience,_ though that’s always nice… ” he trailed off, before catching a glimpse of your rapidly-reddening eyes. “It about _people_. Sharing something. As long as you’re there, enjoying it, I couldn’t care less.”

It looked ridiculous, truly. His shirt on with his trousers undone around his knees, you clutching a pillow, the pair of you close to tears. Suddenly, you laughed. The noise bubbled a little in your throat as it mingled with tears, and The Master dropped his posture, suddenly laughing too.

“Come here.”

You held your arms out to him, letting him kick off his trousers and lie down beside you, holding him close. He wriggled comfortably, relaxing under your touch, as you let out a sigh. All that tension, for nothing.

“It feels stupid, now,” you mumbled.

“I wish you’d told me,” he sighed.

“I –”

“You know,” he cut you off, “lying by omission is still lying.”

You rubbed at his arm fondly, the fabric shirt the only piece of clothing the pair of you wore between you. You started to unbutton it.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I just… I could’ve… I knew something was wrong but I might not have stopped and…”

“I still _really_ want to have sex with you,” you promised, putting a swift end to his self-flagellation as he twisted his head sharply to look at you.

“Even now?”

You nodded, smiling at the boyish grin on his face, as he started helping you undo his shirt buttons.

“Yep. This time, talk me through it.”

For a moment he just looked at you, sincere and adoring. Then, of course, he had to ruin it. One stupid grin, an eyebrow raised:

“Later maybe I’ll teach you some _tricks_.”


End file.
